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kid poem

quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
macio como a cama na terra
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
seja paciente, vida, quando o amor está na porta
as montanhas săo povos silenciosos
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
ame-me no último, ou se vocę năo

 



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